Its been 13 years; 13 years since I ran away from home. Its been 13 years since I have talked to maman and you, papa. It’s been so long that I’m sure that nor you or maman will recognize my voice or how I look. However, in these 13 years I will never forget maman’s sweet voice, which would always put me to sleep as she sung “A La Clair Fontaine,”s.
But it’s your voice, papa, that I force myself to forge. It haunt’s me in my sleep, wakes me from my dreams, and draws me back to my past- my reality, that I desperately try to escape. It’s not just your voice, it is the scars, the lashes, the burns, and the fear that has always kept these explicit memories alive within me. And it always has me looking back to see if my past has caught up with me.
Yet I still question your treatment towards me papa. I understand that you had an orthodox perceptions- you were a soldier after all, but so were all other fathers. But the difference between you and them papa was that they embraced their daughters- you grabbed me by the arm. They held their daughters hand and help them succeed- your dragged me and watched me fail. They gave advice to their daughters and supported them- you swore at me and put me down. But the biggest difference was that they loved their daughters and you just hated me.
Things were so different when you were gone fighting at war. I went to school, played with friends, and even go to the market, no constraints and no one was there to remind me the conventions of society. But when you came back I was to stay home clean, cook, and be a “girl.” Why Papa? Why was that something a girl was expected to do? How come every time I questioned you, you answered with your belt and not your gentle voice that I believed there to be – I want to hear that voice.
And don’t tell me that it is because of the aftermaths of the war or it is because you lost an arm. Don’t use it as an excuse to stop me from living. That will never justify the torture and pain I endured. But I know why you did this, it was because I was a girl- your daughter. The restrictions of your orthodox perception broke me and mama. Papa you pushed me over the one thing that only motivated me to taking this step; the isolation, the expectations, the beating, the taunting, it had become hard to deal with.I just had to do something about it! So I did.
People say that one should not run away from their fears rather face it and overcome this obstacle that life is throwing at them. But it is easy to say that and I’ve been doing the complete opposite. Papa you were not willing to accept change instead you restricted me with sexist beliefs and I couldn’t face that. All I could do was run away that was the easiest decision. It felt so good to take the easy way out after being forced to walk on the thorny path you place me on in the first place. I couldn’t live my life while living in fear of my actions may lead to- you “discipline” me.
So I ran -again- but this time I ran hard as hell for hours and hours. I was suffering as my mouth dried up and realizing that sweat was the only thing that revived me for going on another two days without water. It hurt every time I tried to catch my breathe as the burning sensation in my throat grew with each swallow. But I knew that dying from dehydration would be far more peaceful than dying from the hand of a father who is ashamed and unfortunate for having a daughter.
Papa being a girl is not a sin. It is something to be proud of, something that you and other people will fail to understand. We can do what boys can not. We have the gift of giving life. But you put shame on this gift as soon as I was born. You didn’t let mama forget that she had failed to do what was expected of her. She didn’t say anything, but I will.
Although I have this fire burning within me, you have beaten it down. This pride and courage may be perceived as powerful by others, it is not for me. You’ve made me internally weak and fragile. You broke me with the control and cruel impediments you placed on me. But now I am free. You can no longer inflict pain on me and justify it by saying that everything in life is made of lines, and just like lines you have the power to restrict me. All you did was lock me up as your cruel dark shadows became the wall between me and my happiness. Did you really believe that this ideology of yours would keep your world in tune? Papa take a reality check, I am no longer another string of yours you fail to tune. The world is changing and it is time that so should you.
It’s been 13 years since I’ve ran away from home. I’m still running but now I’m running with the realization that I am free.